First entrance

[captgreatcoat]

[Torchwood Three, Cardiff, during episode 1.07, Greeks Bearing Gifts.]

Tosh is going to have to learn to believe in humanity herself. Nobody can instill that faith. However hard she's going to find it to learn, at least it won't be as hard -- or as costly -- as Jack's own lesson.

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he strides across Roald Dahl Plass, the breeze bringing the smell of the ocean in off the bay, ruffling in his hair and at the hem of his vintage RAF greatcoat.

Until suddenly, it isn't.

Jack's footsteps pause in mid-stride and he spins, hand going automatically to his holster to draw the Webley. The dim, warm light of the plaza at night is gone, just like the salt air and that playful little breeze. The sound of running water from the tower, the shape of the Millennium Centre with its hybrid verse spelled out in windows across its front.

Instead, he's in a bar.

A bar.

"What the hell?"

Comments

[bestpal]

Bucky is on his way past the bar when he catches sight of the man. The first thing he registers is the great coat. World War 2, officer, captain. The information comes easily to him and he follows the man silently into the bar. His hand goes to his knife as the Webley is drawn.

"Captain," he calls out. Steve wouldn't want innocent people to die. While Buck was sorting his memories out, his old best friend remains his moral compass. 'This is a civilian bar."

[captgreatcoat]

Captain.

He turns at the word, because most people he meets don't call him that until he's introduced. The voice doesn't sound familiar, but it could be somebody he's met. He's met a hell of a lot of people in his life.

Except that it's not. It's a young man, watching him warily with one hand to his side in the classic posture of a man preparing to draw a weapon. Tensed, alert, ready to react.

Just like Jack.

Jack's eyes narrow.

"And just what am I doing in this 'civilian bar'?" he says, his accent American despite the very British greatcoat. "And where the hell is it?"

That damn Rift is getting out of hand.

[bestpal]

"Somewhere in space." There are dates, figures that Bucky is told but they mean nothing to him. For a man out of time he thinks this will be the same. "Someone dropped us on a space ship for fun." He remembers Americans who joined the RAF before the Americans officially joined.

"It's a lot to take in."

[captgreatcoat]

So he's on a spaceship. Dropped from the middle of Cardiff onto a spaceship. Brilliant.

And apparently not because of the Rift.

That makes things more complicated. The Rift ... they may not understand it or know how to control it or stop it doing crazy stuff like this, but they'd at least have some idea, if it were the Rift.

"Someone? Does anyone know who?"

This guy's right. It is a lot to take in. Though maybe not for the reasons he thinks.

"You a soldier?" The guy has something of the look about him, something of the way of speaking.

And the description of the place as a 'civilian bar' is a bit of a hint, too, though someone recognizing Jack's coat as part of a uniform might call it that, too. Though ... it's not like Jack is exactly in that uniform. He hasn't worn it for over sixty years.

[bestpal]

"A guy with god-like powers and chid like personality." Bucky parrots the information that he's been give. So far he's discovered nothing to the contrary. "The people who run the ship are friendlies."

He keeps his hand near a weapon as he steps forward. His other hand stretches forward in greeting. "I fought in the same war as you." And others. At least he was on the right side of that war.

"What's your name?"

[captgreatcoat]

Godlike powers and a childlike personality.

Well. Doesn't that sound like some creatures he's met over the years? There are a couple of alien races that description could fit. Most of the ones he knows of don't actually bother messing with humanity too much, because they have other things to think about.

This, though ... this goes beyond the power of any of them that he's aware of. He's been moved across space.

And to judge by the fact that the man he's speaking with says he fought in World War Two, they're being moved across time, too. This is not good.

"I like friendlies."

The head of Torchwood Cardiff knows how to pretend not to be as concerned with matters of time and space as he truly is, so he's smiling as he takes a step forward to shake the man's hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Yours?"

[bestpal]

"Sergeant Bucky Barnes," Bucky took Jack's hand and shook it briefly. He steps back immediately. When he stands too close to someone, the different ways to clear them cloud his mind.

He gestures towards one of the security officers in their yellow tops. "Watch out for them. They don't like other people drawing weapons."

[captgreatcoat]

"United States?" he hazards, though it's not a hell of a guess based on the guy's accent. But Jack himself is proof that's no guide. Not only did he fight for the RAF both times he fought in the Second World War, but he's not even from America, though everyone assumes he is and he's happy to play along.

Barnes indicates a man standing not too far away who's giving Jack a very interested look, and not in the way Jack prefers. Jack watches him for a moment, then looks back to the Sergeant.

"Security, huh?" he asks. He knows the look. Kind of important thing for a guy who's been the places he's been and done the things he's done. "They never do like anybody else getting in on the fun. But I'll behave. For now."

[bestpal]

"Brooklyn." Born and bred. The phrase echoes around in his head but Bucky can't attach it to a specific memory. He shakes it off, he isn't going to show any weakness. "You?"

The security hasn't stopped watching them and he doesn't trust that they were only there for their safety. "They are all over the ship. Seems like its four to a room. They lock anyone up who causes any 'trouble."

[captgreatcoat]

"All around," Jack says, with the easy shrug he's learned to affect when anyone asks him about his past as though he were actually from Earth. "Bit of time in New York, but for most of my life, it's been Cardiff."

Which is entirely true, even if how he's making it sound isn't how it actually was. He has spent a lot of time in New York, enough to be pretty significant to anyone but him, maybe. But he's been based on the Rift in Cardiff for more than a century, now, only ever going far away from it on a mission or when some other compelling reason took him away.

Like World War Two.

"They been doing much of that?" he asks, eying the security officer again and then looking around for any other likely candidates. Of which there are a couple.

[bestpal]

"So you became a Brit." Bucky wonders how many Americans made that change during the war. How many of them met girls and started new lives? There is so much he doesn't know. He isn't sure if he left a girl back home himself. It's something he doesn't want to ask Steve about. Their original time period is like a gaping wound to both of them.

He focuses on the present. "Not yet," he says. "But people are smart. They aren't pulling weapons out near them."

[captgreatcoat]

"Pretty much. Stayed there after the war, been there ever since."

Again, he's playing the game of things that are true but not quite entirely honest. He had gone back to Cardiff after the Second World War, had been there ever since, except for the occasional mission. But that was more than sixty years ago.

"Kinda like it there," he says, with a lopsided smile.

That's ... actually, it's almost true. Of Cardiff if anywhere on Earth. It's become familiar. His little corner to save. Until he got the chance to leave.

Until now.

Jack's eyes rest again on the security officer. Bucky talks like a soldier, like he's reporting to a superior, maybe out of the old training that taught him to do that so well it sticks even here, even now.

"Well, it's good to know what the arrangements are, at least."

Even if his expression is a little wary.

[bestpal]

Bucky nods. Each bit of information is stored away and now he's given his report he's not got much more to say. Small conversation is not exactly his thing.

"There will be a medical," He warns finally. The doctors did nothing wrong, but he remains suspicious of what they may eventually do with the information they collect. "They won't let move around the ship until you've had it."

[captgreatcoat]

"Great. Strange doctors."

That's not a thing that Jack loves. And he doesn't need a medical. Ever. It's not like anything that kills him won't just unkill him as soon as whatever it is that makes him the way he is kicks in.

But it sounds like he doesn't have much choice. And ... well, if he were being reasonable he'd say it was a sensible quarantine precaution. Hell, given some of the stuff that's been unleashed on the world thanks to aliens in the past, he could see the sense in even more stringent procedures.

That doesn't mean he has to like it.

"Well, thanks, Sergeant." He gives a half-smile. "You've been very helpful."